


Root Beer

by CJSpooks



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: DS9, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-06
Updated: 2012-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-29 01:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/314158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CJSpooks/pseuds/CJSpooks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While having lunch with Dr. Bashir, Garak compares him to the Federation's favorite beverage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Root Beer

Quark had once described root beer as "bubbly and cloying and happy. Just like the Federation."

Yes, root beer was the embodiment of the Federation, as was his dear doctor. Dr. Bashir, his current lunch companion, was sipping Plomeek soup in between an analysis of the latest piece of Cardassian literature he was lent. As usual, the man was missing the point, seeing everything through the Federation filter, but his moralistic prattle was still amusing and refreshing in its delivery (though he would never admit it to Bashir himself).

Oh yes, Bashir and root beer were one in the same. Bubbly and happy, definitely. Those bright, ever-observant eyes and bouncy step on the Promenade were the Federation incarnate: optimistic, moralistic, compassionate. These were characteristics he would have abhorred in other beings as pure weakness but were absolutely charming and perfect in Bashir.

He likened himself a mentor to this young human, but also knew that while Bashir would listen attentively and even take notes, he could never adopt the correct mindset. He would always be positively irritatingly honest and trusting with those he met. He wouldn't take necessary measures to safeguard the future by gathering intelligence on anyone currently called an ally. He was insufferably open-minded and infinitely kind, if oblivious to the realities of the universe.

But after all those failings, he still had lunch with the man every week. He still cared for him deeper than anyone else in his life. He was poised to let the man in, if only Bashir knew how close he was to the door...

"Garak?"

He was pulled from his thoughts by the soft voice of his companion. "Yes, doctor?"

"If everyone is perfectly content to kill their loved ones for the good of the state, then what is the point of loving at all?"

The questions his friend would ask after a lengthy discourse continued to amaze him. This one was typical of Bashir trying to understand the Cardassian's devotion to something other than their personal desires.

He thought for a moment before answering. "We have hearts, doctor. Though our sense of duty is at a level most cultures would not understand, we still must give in to our desires to live and love." He smiled. "How else could Cardassia thrive if there were no one to replenish the state?"

"You once said that the most important lesson you wanted to teach me was that sentiment is the greatest weakness. Ultimately, a weakness one cannot afford."

"Yes, I remember. You didn't want to learn it," He replied in a tone different than what he originally intended. He met Bashir's gaze before continuing, "But there is such a love that exists which can be greater than sentiment."

"Have you ever been in love like that?"

"Would you believe me if I said yes?"

He knew it was not wise to counter such a question in that manner, but he couldn't help it. He was realizing that his continued interactions with the young doctor were making him behave somewhat unlike himself.

While he watched the doctor compose a response to his query, his own thoughts went back to root beer. The smell displeased him, as did the taste. But, Bashir had a lovely smell, for the young man usually wore a somewhat spicy cologne. His taste...well, he spent several lonely nights thinking about it. His conclusion was that Bashir's kisses were as sweet as he took his Tarkalean tea.

_Bubbly._

Bashir was overly so. Always eager to help anyone who needed him. The young man's enthusiasm didn't always rub people the right way, but they always recognized that he possessed the greatest intentions and highest regard for the Hippocratic Oath.

_Happy._

When Julian Bashir was happy, he radiated it to everyone through his animated facial expressions and body movements when relating bits of information. Just the thought of Bashir's good moods made _him_ happy as he worked in his shop.

_Cloying._

The combination of being constantly bubbly and happy were enough to be cloying after awhile. Add to that the doctor's natural curiosity paired with heavy persistence. He remembered his withdrawal post-implant. Bashir never gave up, no matter how verbally or physically abusive he had been. It had annoyed him at the time, not being able to get rid of Bashir. The poison he spouted to push the man away wasn't entirely made up of lies; he was a different person then. Before, he would consider his lunch companion's personality to be cloying at times.

_Before..._

Cloying yes. But then he realized it was this same amalgamation of qualities that made up Julian Bashir that had changed him over time...it got under his skin and into his heart.

_Before..._

_Before...what? Oh, he knew._

He could learn to love root beer in the same way he already loved Julian Bashir.

But he'd almost forgotten one characteristic...

He remembered back to his conversation with Quark. They had noted how the root beer and the Federation were _insidious_. The Federation was either completely oblivious or cunningly devious in their quest to have people like them, to want to join their "utopia."

_Insidious._

That would mean the man sitting across from him was equally devious in their relationship. Actively hiding things, Bashir knowing exactly how his influence worked, effectively using it to gain his own information. If this were so, he would be conflicted; on the one hand, such behavior was essentially Cardassian, and perfect for a pupil under his tutelage. But then it would mean Julian was not as honest and open as he first perceived. What a revelation that would be in the end. It would probably change his perception of the man he loved completely.

He was brought back into the moment by Bashir's reply, "Even if it were a lie, Garak, it'd still be true by your previous logic. And that's enough of an answer for me."

He smiled and conceded just this once. "Yes, my dear doctor, I have been in love. A type of love which defies all that I thought I stood for. I didn't understand it when it first blossomed...and honestly, I still don't."

He just gave himself up to it.

"I hope it was worth it."

"It was."

He had almost slipped up and said _is._ He paused before stating, "Oh doctor, I'd like your opinion on something of great importance."

"What exactly?"

"Tell me, do you like root beer?"

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written for this fandom. I'm not sure if I'm particularly happy with the ending.


End file.
